The Son Of A Villain
by SpankingsForEveryone
Summary: A story born right out of a single scene. If this story is reviewed at least once, so I know at least someone is interested in a story about Victor and Graydon Creed, it will be continued. The line that gave birth to this writing is "Ah. Well well if it ain't my son the famous Slayer Of Mutants. What do ya say boy? Come to Papa!" and voila! Specific scene comes from S5E6 Bloodlines


"-ooo!" I watched as he floated toward the ground. "No! Not that!" He'll be in hearing distance in 3… 2… 1. He landed on the ground, on his knees. He was bound and tied in rope, attached to a parachute, wearing a black top, red tie, blue jeans, and brown shoes. He stared at me in horror. If this was any other man, I would have reveled in their fear. Instead, I just didn't care.

"Ah. Well, well-"

"Sabretooth." He said fearfully. Brat dares to interrupt me! Humans have no idea on how to raise children! I took a step closer to him, so he was in grabbing distance.

"-if it ain't my son-" I gestured at him "-the famous Slayer Of Mutants."

"Y-you don't… understand!" I picked him up by the front of his shirt. "No!"

"What do ya say boy?"

"NO!"

"Come to Papa!" I used my index finger to gesture he come closer, even though he didn't really have a choice in the matter.

"NOOOO! You're _not_ my father! My father is human, just like me! Just like my mother!" I wanted to tell him just why he was here, but first I have to fix his attitude. So I dumped him on the ground, put my foot on his back and used my long nails to cut through the fabric covering his buttocks. I quickly severed the parachute from his back and his shoulders, removing the thing almost completely, the straps on his legs still outlined his butt cheeks perfectly.

I quickly grabbed his ankle and turned around, placing my foot on the step of the house and threw him over my knee. This was going to be a battle of wills, the battle to show who's dominate in this relationship. The pack on his stomach made him puffed up enough to display his bottom, thighs, and sit spots perfectly.

"You can't do this to me! Get your filthy hands off me Sabertooth!" He demanded. I used my claws to cut off the fabric covering his smackable thighs while I spoke to him.

"I don't know if I should be proud that ya sound almost as violent as me, or disappointed because yer giving out empty threats ya can't possibly dish out, Graydon."

"H-how do you-"

"Who do ya think named ya? A human? Nah, they ain't got the brains to give birth to something like you." With that I brushed the fabric off his thighs and he gasped.

"Unhand me at once, you filthy creature, I will-" I delivered a hard swat to the middle of his butt and he howled. "OW! I will see to it that you suffer!" I delivered another, harder swat to his left cheek. "AH!" Then the right. "Ugh!" Then the middle. "YOW!" Then the left. "AHHOOWW!" I started up a pace, not missing a beat on his perfectly outlined butt cheeks at the moment. To get to his other sensitive skin, I'm going to have to cut that off too. He tried to threaten me more but he couldn't keep up with the rhythm of swats. So I started up talking.

"Sure your mother and I weren't there for yer childhood, but we're still yer parents. We wanted a better life for ya. And then ya go and decide to slay mutants. I must say yer not very good at it, and yer way out of yer league."

"H-OWWW! Dare you- OWWWW! When I get up from- OOOH! Here, I'll sh-OWWCH! You what fo-OOOH!"

"If I can get ya to whimper in pain just from a well deserved spankin then clearly ya ain't the top dog, are ya?" I questioned, laying a swat to each of his thighs. He finally started struggling, meaning I was beginning to get to him.

"You can't do this to me!" He called out as quickly as he could between swats, giving a great howl afterwards. You'd think the boy never got a spankin in his life. I felt him grab my leg and squeeze hard, clearly trying to hurt me. I growled at him, clawing off the brown leather encasing his sit spots, tearing them from his body before removing my belt, doubling it over.

"Ya little brat! Ya just earned yerself a harder spankin!" I brought down the belt hard, but not hard enough to break his skin or bones. I'd been careful not to do that this whole time because otherwise the lesson wouldn't work. "Do ya even know why yer over my knee?" I growled at him.

At the first swat of the belt, he'd let out a whimper and a sob before quieting himself down. I wouldn't be letting him up anytime soon, only when he was bawling like a baby would I let him up. I need to teach him who's the top dog, lest he start acting up and threatening me again. Of course his threats were empty. I knew he couldn't harm me. Hell. Wolverine couldn't and he's a mutant. My only answer was an insult, though more of a whiny one. "Filthy mutant."

I struck him lower than the first blow, overlapping half of it. "That ain't the answer I'm looking for! Why are ya over my knee?"

"I hate you." He whimpered. I gave him a third swat that was lower than the second but half of the third swat overlapped the second, making this a pattern from the top of his butt to the bottom of his thighs.

"Why are ya over yer daddy's knee?" I'm running out of ways to ask the same question. Maybe I should add to the humiliation factor.

"You're not my 'daddy'! My father is a human." He screamed through the pain. I cut out the part that covered his buttocks and his thighs from his boxers, removing it and I heard him begin to cry. "Stop." I ignored him.

"I'll ask ya one more time. Why are ya over yer daddy's knee gettin a spankin like a little boy?" There was only one more way to ask the question. I noticed at that phrasing of the question he blushed a deep crimson as his breathing changed. Three quick inhales and one deep exhale through his nose.

"For being rude to you?" I smirked.

"What's another word for it?" He cringed.

"For being disrespectful?"

"That's right, boy."

"Now let me up!" He demanded weakly, whimpering.

"You've not earned it boy!" I snarled, smacking him with the belt as I reached his sit spots. He howled and I quickly delivered another and he started up crying.

"I'm sorry."

"And I believe ya. But you and I ain't done yet." He gasped, crying harder. "While yer docile, you and I are gonna go over some ground rules." I delivered another swat as he tried to stop me by squeezing me again. "Do ya want me to pin yer hands to yer back, brat!?" I scolded harshly. He gulped.

"F-fuc-" I delivered a wallop to stop him before he put himself in more trouble. He howled with desperate pain.

"I don't care if ya wanna go over ground rules or not, yer gonna get 'em one way or another!" He whimpered.

"F-fine!" He sobbed.

"Good boy. These three rules are yer golden rules. Meanin that any breakin of 'em will end up with a severe spankin-"

"NO!" He shouted. I delivered a bit more force with my next swat, having started over with the circuit once already.

"Don't interrupt me!" I scolded.

"Sssorry." He started sobbing.

"Like I said, any breakin of the golden rules will end up with ya gettin a severe spankin. Rule numbah one, kid, don't leave the house without telling me where yer goin. Rule numbah two, ya will respect me and anyone I tell ya too. Rule numbah three, ya will obey any given direct order, ya got that?" I asked, starting the circuit over again, his breath was hitching. He was back to trying to fight me. I dropped his butt from my decided circuit because anymore there and I risk bruising him, and I slowed down the rhythm of swats.

"I-I a-am a f-full grown-n a-adult." Was his only statement. I decided to ignore this. It was a true statement, and could be either categorized either as a statement or backtalk, which would end badly for him. I laid the belt on his right sit spot, he whined, to warn him that I wanted a verbal answer.

"I said, do ya understand." I told him. He hesitated a moment before answering.

"Yes. I understand."

"And ya understand what happens if ya break those rules?" I asked warningly. He let out a half wail.

"Yes. I understand."

"Okay then. These next three rules are ya _silver_ rules. Breakin em will earn ya a _spankin_. Rule numbah four, yer _never_ going to associate with those so called _Friends_ _of_ _Humanity_ _again_. Rule numbah five, _no_ trying ta _kill_ a mutant _unless_ _I say otherwise_. Rule numbah six, corresponding with rule numbah one, yer to _always_ come home _before_ _midnight_ , and _not_ _a_ _second_ _after midnight_ , unless we have _both_ agreed upon differently for that _night_. Do ya understand?" He'd started wailing, hearing these rules. He was almost to the point I wanted him at.

"Yes. I understand."

"And ya understand the consequences?"

"Yes. I understand." I narrowed my eyes. He seems to be reciting it, not actually answering the question.

"Are ya thinkin _naughty_ thoughts, Graydon Creed?" He shook his head. "Verbally!" I demanded, bringing down the belt. I needed to hear his tone of voice to tell if he was lying, his blood rate and heart rate wouldn't tell me anything because of the situation he was in.

"No." He wailed.

"Then we got only one rule left, the bronze rule. Rule numbah seven, no secrets are to be kept from me! Do ya understand?"

"I understand."

"Good." I had successfully made his thighs the same color as his butt and the only thing left was his undercurve and sit spots, which I made my only targets now. "Now speakin of secrets, I've got ta tell ya why those fools dropped ya off here. In exchange of me not killin em, they gave me you. They sold ya out. Of course I only promised I wouldn't kill em, I didn't say how long that promise is gonna last. In fact yer gonna tell me where their base is at and I'm gonna attack em. That was my secret, ya got any yerself?" I asked.

"No." He replied honestly.

"Good. Now ta finish this spankin." I shut my mouth and started whacking away just hard enough not to break his skin or bones, aiming to make his undercurve and sit spots the same color, and by the time I was done I had gotten what I wanted.

"Waaah!" He'd gone limp and the only thing besides breathing he was doing was wailing. I lifted him off my knee for a moment before sitting him upon it. He gave a loud wail. His hands were still tied up so he couldn't rub his sore behind. I gave him a hug. It took a minute but he finally accepted the comfort I was trying to offer. I rubbed his back, waiting for the pitch of his wailing to quiet down some.

When I was satisfied, I set him down and untied the ropes from his body and then led him inside. "Now yer off ta bed. It's late and tomorrow we need to go to the store, buy some food and groceries and stuff." He opened his mouth, thought better of it, and headed off to find a room to sleep in.


End file.
